Jesus is His Name

There is a realm of deepest joy
Which words cannot express
Quite unlike earthly pleasures known
With peace and quiet rest

A place where troubles all subside
The mind can cease from toil
A place no thief, no moth, no rust
Can penetrate and spoil

Where is this place you may inquire
Where one may be so blessed?
Where is strength regained anew?
It's at the Saviour's breast

Beleaguered, restless, troubled souls
Have always found reprieve
When once their cares are cast on Him
The moment they believe

Your understanding has not known
The peace this place affords
For every saint drawn near by grace
The saviour now adores

So turn your gaze to Him who saves
The weary, broken frame
He makes a way both night and day
And Jesus is His name

This poem was a finalist in the March 2021 poetry contest